One of the horror genre's "most widely read critics" (Rue Morgue # 68), "an accomplished film journalist" (Comic Buyer's Guide #1535), and the award-winning author of Horror Films of the 1980s (2007), The Rock and Roll Film Encyclopedia (2007) and Horror Films of the 1970s (2002), John Kenneth Muir, presents his blog on film, television and nostalgia, named one of the Top 100 Film Studies Blog on the Net.

Thursday, April 05, 2012

CULT TV FLASHBACK #152: Torchwood: "Countrycide" (November 19, 2006)

If
Doctor
Who met The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974), you might end up with something like Torchwood’s
ultra-violent first season episode, “Countrycide,” an early, dramatic and gory high-point
in Russell T. Davies’ TV long-running spin-off.

First aired in the UK in late November
of 2006, Torchwood’s “Countrycide” was written by Chris Chibnall and
directed by Andy Goddard. The story
finds the intrepid Torchwood team heading out to the isolated
and remote Brecon Beacon mountain range to investigate a series of unusual
missing persons cases. Specifically, seventeen people have disappeared in the mountains
in five months -- all within a twenty mile radius -- and there is no pattern in terms of age, sex, or race.

Led by the dashing Captain Jack Harkness (John
Barrowman), new recruit Gwen Cooper (Eve Myles), the team doctor Owen Harper
(Burn Gorman), computer expert Toshiko Sato (Naoki Moro) and Ianto (Gareth David
Lloyd) set up camp in the remote mountains. Owen stresses how uncomfortable the country locale makes him feel, and in short order, there's good reason for his discomfort. Before long, the Torchwood vehicle is stolen, and the group is left to fend for
itself at a nearby inn, the abandoned "Tap House.”

There, the group finds skinned, half-eaten corpses, and also one young survivor who warns of monstrous, implacable attackers. The
Torchwood team suspects that the temporal and spatial “rift” which deposits alien life-forms in
Cardiff -- a corollary to Sunnydale’s “Hellmouth” on Buffy the Vampire Slayer -- has mysteriously expanded to include this
area in South Wales.

One by one, the team is captured by monstrous, hooded foes,
and soon Torchwood’s best and brightest find out that the brand of evil they now face is all human. Specifically, the locals celebrate a “harvest”
every decade, enthusiastically going cannibal in the process. “We’re food,” Tosh realizes, after
gazing into a refrigerator filled with human body parts.

After barely surviving an attack by
the cannibals, a shocked Gwen comments that this is all “too much,” that
interfacing with dangerous aliens is one thing, but facing the human heart of
darkness is something else all together…

Incredibly violent and disturbing, “Countrycide”
is the closest thing to 1970s savage cinema (The Hills Have Eyes, Deliverance,
Texas Chain Saw) that I have seen on television since The
X-Files aired the (later banned from network broadcast...) fourth season
episode “Home” in 1996. Bloody and violent, this British cult series unexpectedly tracks off its predictable course and showcases a riveting drama that eschews the
paranormal, the supernatural and the alien.

From the first sequence of a woman driving
alone at night and spying a corpse on a lonely country road, “Countrycide” seeks to terrify, unsettle and provoke. It largely succeeds, in
part because of the tremendously effective location shooting. Several long establishing shots of the
Torchwood team operating under gray, roiling skies -- surrounded by inhospitable
mountains on every side -- transmit perfectly the isolation and danger of the locale.

In addition, the episode frequently cuts to
P.O.V. shots from hilltops or through window panes gazing at the team; watching unnoticed as Jack and his friends attempt to unravel the mystery. Tight-framing is utilized during several tense sequences, and the episode also deploys high-angles to help maintain the sense of tension and anxiety throughout the hour. The visualization here seems much more adroit than many other early episodes of Torchwood, and it's clear that everyone was on the same page in terms of producing the equivalent of a horror movie.

The horror-based film grammar in "Countrycide" fits
perfectly with the horror tropes the narrative dutifully marshals. The group heads into an area of no cell phone
reception (convention #1) and learns that the local police are complicit with the atrocities
they find (convention #2). Later the bad guys cut the
power in the inn (convention #3), plunging Jack and company into darkness. And finally, the episode
resolves with a Sam Peckinpah-like slow-motion massacre of the villains (convention #4) in a
location that seems to deliberately recall Straw Dogs (1972).

In terms of horror movies, I have always
preferred the “savage cinema” sub-genre because I find it more realistic than some other styles. The core idea of the savage cinema is that you are living your normal
life when you take a wrong turn (into rural Texas, or the Nevada desert, or the mountains) and end
up countenancing a kind of horror you could never imagine. This brand of horror is grounded in real human desperation and insanity. “Countrycide” dwells on such notions and at
every turn, Jack and his team seem outmatched and unprepared to deal with it.

The Torchwood team's lack of understanding about the cannibals in "Countrycide" represents a great spin on the series’ sci-fi premise. Up to this point, the mysterious Jack seemed
to have all the answers. He could
recognize and diagnose crimes as being the results of certain alien incursions,
and always devise an appropriate defense. But here he’s caught off-guard, and “Countrycide” offers the
most dangerous engagement yet for his team.

Like Leatherface in theChain Sawmovies, the crazy cannibalistic locals
of this episode seem unable to relate to people as anything but as a resource to
be used up. “He’s meat” says the leader,
of one victim. “Meat has to be
tenderized,” he informs Tosh, looking her up and down…but not as a sexual
conquest. Nope, he sees her...as dinner.

“Countrycide” also boasts a truly wicked
sense of humor. An early scene set at a roadside hamburger stand suggests some of the
mystery to come, and there’s a droll moment wherein Tosh off-handedly tells a
story about a friend contracting Hepatitis from eating a burger at a similar establishment. The reactions from the team
members (all dining on burgers at the time…) is priceless.

Finally, “Countrycide” works so well within the Torchwood continuity
because the engagement with the cannibals boasts strong repercussions for the primary characters.

Isolated by the Torchwood organization's demand for “secrecy,” Gwen is unable to tell her fiancé about the horror she has
witnessed here. Feeling vulnerable and alone afterwards, she turns to Owen for comfort (and sex...), an act which will have
repercussions down the line. The episode also adds another layer to the puzzle of Jack's background. Here, Harkness reveals to a cannibal that one of his "skills" is...torture. Jack Harness, Jack Bauer?

At this point, I've finally caught up with the first three
seasons of Torchwood, and by my estimation, the series just kept getting better
and better each year. The third season’s
“Children of Earth” is one of the most devastating, emotionally-affecting
science fiction TV dramas I’ve seen in a long while.
Early on, however, the show wasn’t quite as sure-footed. “Countrycide” is a notable exception: an
extremely savage and disgusting early installment that explodes the carefully
established rules of the series, and reveals, rather dramatically, how even
with aliens lurking about, the ultimate enemy remains man himself.

When you reach “Children of Earth,” the third
season, you begin to detect that this idea of man's heart of darkness -- so brilliantly vetted in “Countrycide” -- is not a detour…but rather an intentional destination.

1 comment:

Countrycide is definitely one of the best Torchwood episodes. It could have been a stand alone movie. It's plot felt like an early '70s made for television movie or a Night Gallery anthology episode of that '70s era.

About John

award-winning author of 27 books including Horror Films FAQ (2013), Horror Films of the 1990s (2011), Horror Films of the 1980s (2007), TV Year (2007), The Rock and Roll Film Encyclopedia (2007), Mercy in Her Eyes: The Films of Mira Nair (2006),, Best in Show: The Films of Christopher Guest and Company (2004), The Unseen Force: The Films of Sam Raimi (2004), An Askew View: The Films of Kevin Smith (2002), The Encyclopedia of Superheroes on Film & Television (2004), Exploring Space:1999 (1997), An Analytical Guide to TV's Battlestar Galactica (1998), Terror Television (2001), Space:1999 - The Forsaken (2003) and Horror Films of the 1970s (2002).

Follow by Email

What the Critics Say...

"...some of the best writing about the genre has been done by John Kenneth Muir. I am particularly grateful to him for the time and attention he's paid to things others have overlooked, under-appreciated and often written off. His is a fan's perspective first, but with a critic's eye to theme and underscore, to influence and pastiche..." - Chris Carter, creator of The X-Files, in the foreword to Horror Films FAQ (October 2013).

"Hands down, John Kenneth Muir is one of the finest critics and writers working today. His deep analysis of contemporary American culture is always illuminating and insightful. John's film writing and criticism is outstanding and a great place to start for any budding writer, but one should also examine his work on comic books, TV, and music. His weighty catalog of books and essays combined with his significant blog production places him at the top of pop culture writers. Johns work is essential in understanding the centrality of culture in modern society." - Professor Bob Batchelor, cultural historian and Executive Director of the James Pedas Communication Center at Thiel College (2014).

"...an independent film scholar, [Muir] explains film studies concepts in a language that is reader-friendly and engaging..." (The Hindu, 2007)"...Muir's genius lies in his giving context to the films..." (Choice, 2007)